I'm so sorry this took so long to get out - I came home from Uni for the holidays and have been working full time, and it's surprisingly hard to find time to write with family looking over your shoulder every time you get the laptop out (I know it's not much of an excuse, but it's all I have). Anyway, thank you for putting up with me. I'll try and get the next chapter up soon for you all

Anyway - please enjoy Harry's Potion's and DADA lessons

Harry had argued with Tom all the way down to the temporary classroom set aside for Defence Against the Dark Arts. He was almost the first there, beaten only by Hermione who'd taken her customary space at the front of the class. He almost went to sit by her, but the glare she sent in his direction sent him further back

"You know it makes sense Harry" Tom wheedled as they took a seat in the third row "Obviously we can't do it yet – we have a lot more training to do. But we're in no rush – they won't be able to move it until at least Christmas. Probably not even until summer. A Cerberus is hardly a simple thing to move about"

Harry groaned softly, before replying "I just want to not get expelled, Tom"

Tom sounded exasperated "And that is why you have me – I know what you should really want. Honestly Harry – have I ever steered you wrong before?"

For a moment, Harry was tempted to say yes. But then they'd end up arguing about Dudley's birthday again, and Tom would inevitably win, making it all an exercise in futility. So instead he sighed "No... you haven't"

He was going to say more but he heard the door open, and his fellow Hufflepuff's coming over to join him

"You won't regret this Harry – just you wait. We'll pull it off perfectly"

"Harry – where did you get to? We looked in the Library for you" Ernie's question was echoed silently by other curious eyes.

"Got a bit lost, then decided to just go straight to Defence Against the Dark Arts"

They were interrupted from further conversation by the entrance of Professor Quirrell. The teacher looked very pale, and younger than one would expect of a faculty member at such a prestigious institution, perhaps only in his mid-twenties. He had a twitchy right eye, a thin nose and if he had any hair, it was covered by a deep purple turban.

Hunching over, the man made his way to the front of the class and towards the blackboard to write his name, though his hands were shaking so much that he dropped the chalk before he even managed to get past the 'f'. The class laughed, and pale skin tinged pink. Tom was frowning, though whether it was at the incompetence of the teacher or the disrespect of the class was anyone's guess.

Finally, his name written out, he stood in the centre of the classroom and removed his wand.

"Sed locus non dictur esse secundum quid in aliis exspectationes" he said, waving his wand in the most complicated pattern that Harry had ever seen. Runes sparked gold along the upper borders of each wall, activating with a loud popping sound that made some students shout out in panic, before disappearing into the stone.

"Was that Dark Magic I just performed?" Professor Quirrell said, standing up straighter. The twitching stopped, and the class shut up "Or just a simple spell to make runes light up? How can you tell? As newcomers to the wizarding world, how can you sense that a dark spell has been performed, or that you are in the presence of a dark creature or artefact?"

He paused for a moment, letting the tension in the room increase "And why would you need to know? Anyone who has read some of the class textbook could tell you that dark magic is illegal, and is punishable by anything from a hefty fine, all the way to a dementor's kiss. And even if you haven't, we are in a time of peace thanks to Mr Potter here. In fact, I would go as far as to say that the majority of you do not expect to ever be in the presence of dark magic, nor need to defend yourself from the Arts I will be describing. Those majority of you are wrong"

He paused on that note, heading back to his desk to pick up a piece of parchment. He looked at it for a moment, before saying "Weasley - what is the definition of dark magic?"

The red head looked up, flushing red and swallowing "Dad says... Dad says Dark Magic is magic that hurts people, or makes them do things they don't want to do"

Quirrell looked at him for a long moment and nodded "As good a definition as any. Many Dark Arts spells cause a great deal of harm. It is said that the number of spells dedicated to torture outnumber those for healing more than 20:1, and that some of them are... very creative. But that's more detail than your little ears need to worry about. However Mr Weasley – does your mother use the cutting charm?"

Ron nodded "To cut vegetables and stuff, yeah?"

"And you wouldn't call that a Dark Spell, would you?"

"Of course not! Mum would never use the Dark Arts"

"Yet a Cutting Charm applied to the throat would kill almost as certainly as... let's say the Blood Boiling Curse?"

Ron looked rather green at this, but dutifully nodded "I suppose... but Mum would never use it like that"

"Nor would most people, Mr Weasley. So what separates the Cutting Charm and the Blood Boiling Curse?"

There was an echoing silence before Hermione said "One is designed specifically to cause harm"

"Very good Miss Granger. 5 points to Gryffindor to you, and another 5 to Mr Weasley. So what we could say is that Dark Arts refer to subsets of magic specifically designed to cause harm to others? But surely that brings up problems of its own – can anyone think of any?"

"There are jinxes that are just made to cause harm to people" Zacharias Smith said "Like... like the Bat Bogey Hex, and the Boil Growing hex. But those aren't dark arts spell"

"Yeah - but they're just kids things. They don't really hurt people, just annoy them. My brothers use them all the time when designing pranks" Ron pointed out "And mum can heal them in a second"

"So perhaps a better definition of the Dark Arts could be spells designed specifically to cause severe or irreversible harm to the victim" Professor Quirrell summarised "Very good – 5 points to Hufflepuff. Any others? No? Does anyone know why someone would invent something like the Blood Boiling Curse?

"For vengeance?" an Indian girl said

"Possibly – certainly some curses were created for that reason, Miss Patil. However, the Blood Boiling Curse was created for a much more benign purpose. It was created by a slightly eccentric French wizard in the early 17th Century as a novel means of cooking meat, but was soon discovered that it made a very effective method of killing people"

The wizard paused, yet no one said a word. The class were transfixed, if not a little green at the thought of having one's blood boiled.

"So what about spells that have been repurposed? Are they dark by nature? Or just in context? Is it possible for magic to be good or bad? Or is it just the wizard who yields it?" There was another pause "I have spent many years studying the rare and endemic magics of the continent, Asia, Africa. I have seen tribes that used highly involved rituals, considered dark by our ministry's standards, to bring an early end to the dry season when it threatened their lives. I've seen maternal magic in Asia that when activated, kills whoever sought to hurt their children at the cost of the mother's life. There is even magic that can turn back the very hands of time herself. But one thing I have found, is that the common definition for the 'Dark Arts' is at the very least flawed, and even outright wrong. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it, and too weak to yield it wisely"

"So, instead I will just teach you to defend yourself from all magic, by any means necessary. From the simple cutting curse to ancient rituals, from artefacts to creatures. And I shall teach you to defend yourself from the witches and wizards who may be yielding them, because like I said, magic is just the power. The real danger comes from the person yielding it"

Silence echoed through the classroom as Professor Quirrell finished his speech, and Tom was clapping, staring at the teacher enraptured. Harry almost followed suit. In fact, most of the class looked completely fascinated , if not a little nervous, taking out their quills and starting to write down the curriculum that Professor Quirrell was describing, which started off in the first term with identifying and countering different dangerous artefacts and creatures, then focussing on wizards in the second and third one. There was silence in the classroom as the Professor lectured, right up until they were dismissed.

"That was brilliant" Harry enthused, walking out of the classroom with Susan and Ernie. Ernie was nodding, though Susan was looking a little less supportive

"He's going to be a good teacher, I think" she said, before adding "But my Auntie wouldn't let me know any dark curses because she said I was too young. I don't think the Professor should have taught us anything of that level yet"

"You're going to complain?" Harry asked, very aware of how Tom was glaring at the young witch

"No! No – I didn't say that" Susan quickly said "I mean – Hogwarts can't hold a DADA professor for longer than a year. This could be our only chance to have someone teaching us who knows what he's on about"

She looked like she wanted to say something else, but they had reached the Great Hall for lunch and the conversation naturally changed to what was on offer that day, and whether Potions was to be as much of a torment as was promised by the upper years.

The potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder there than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like their other teachers, started the class by taking the register, and like a great number of them, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah yes" he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new – celebrity"

The whole class was silent, the eyes of the room turning to the boy who was turning red. He truly hated being famous. Professor Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were cold and empty, like the pitch black subway tunnel that Harry had to traverse whenever Dudley had fancied a 'midnight snack' and Aunt Petunia had run out of chocolate.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making" the Professor began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught ever word – like Professor McGonagall, and Professor Quirrell, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate powder of liquids that creep through the human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.

More silence followed this little speech as Snape spun on his heel to walk towards the blackboard. He paused halfway, then without turning around said sharply "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood"

Harry floundered for a second, before asking timidly "The Draught of Living Death?"

The potion's master turned back around to face him. Instead of looking pleased by his answer (which was correct according to the smile on Tom's face), he instead looked angry. Indeed, his tone was clipped when he asked the next question "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry's answer was surer this time – he'd read that in a small footnote on the train that morning "The stomach of a goat, sir. It's a stone that can save you from a number of different poisons"

The look on Snape's face was getting sourer, and Harry got the distinct impression that Snape didn't like him very much. Tom thought so too, because against his usual rules, he added a little titbit of his own to the answer.

"It is particularly effective against poisons created using a classic Lowry base"

"And what, is a Lowry base, Mr Potter?" the teacher asked, stalking over to Harry's desk, resting both hands on it to loom over the student. Harry gulped, looking up at the pale skinned man.

"A Lowry base is... an alkali base made from... Armadillo bile, honeywater and valerian root with some innately magical ingredient..." Black eyes stared into his own and he swallowed. He'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry – he hated him. Harry thought he was even starting to get a headache from the intensity of the man's stare "The added magical ingredient is dependent on the type of potion... poisonous ingredients are added to prepare the base to produce a..."

Tom stopped in his explanation, forcing Harry to do so as well. Silence seemed to echo around the classroom for a second "He's in your head, Harry!"

Tom moved between the teacher and student, fists clenched and eyes murderous as he reached out to the Professor and in a move Harry couldn't see, pushed the man away. Harry felt the headache disappear, only to be replaced by a bone deep ache in the rest of him. Hs vision greyed out, and he couldn't see Tom anymore. The last thing he heard as his head smacked against the potion's classroom's floor, was Susan shouting his name.

Professor Sprout was a very good listener, Harry thought as he related his week to her, albeit without details of the DADA lesson, or the encounter with the three headed dog on the third floor. Whilst her body tensed when Harry told her about Snape trying to read his thoughts, and his magic lashing out accidentally, she didn't say anything until she was sure Harry had finished

"Well, that was certainly illuminating Mr Potter" she finally said "And does collaborate with what I've heard from your classmates. They also suggested that the Professor was unfairly targeting you with questions above your syllabus level?"

Harry thought about that for a moment, then shook his head "I'm afraid not Professor – the questions he asked were in the footnotes of the recommended text, and explained more thoroughly in the extended reading. Could I ask... what did I do to him?"

Professor Sprout looked uneasy for a moment, before replying "Nothing that our own healer couldn't fix. And nothing compared to what I'm going to give him for trying to hurt one of my students. Don't worry Harry – he won't violate your privacy like that again. Not if he knows what's good for him. I will be talking to the Headmaster on your behalf"

And with that, she patted him gently on the shoulder, before calling in Madam Pomphrey to give him a final check-up. He'd been released and was walking back to the Hufflepuff common room when he finally got up the courage to ask Tom what he'd done.

The boy had looked rather smug "I realised the connection was maintained via eye contact. So I gouged his out"

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